The Pirate and the Prince
by Blue Blast
Summary: When they first met, he was five, and she was a tiny thing, barely three months old, and still a helpless infant. He thought she would always be a helpless little hindrance he would have to put up with. He was wrong, for the most part.
1. Chapter 1

**The Pirate and The Prince**

The first time they met, he was five.

Freed stared uncomfortably at the bundle in his aunt's arms. A strand of hair the color of black coffee peeked out from the edge of an avocado-green blanket. Dark hair, pale complexion, similar to his, and hazel-green eyes. Healthy enough for an infant of three months. The little thing was the picture of angelicness, making cooing noises as it tugged on a strand of its mother's hair, which was a similar shade to the child's.

"Would you like to hold her?"

So it _was _a female. Just as he suspected. Great. A _girl _cousin. She would probably want to play with dolls and tea sets. Yuck. But instead, because his doting mother was standing behind him, and he desperately did not want to disappoint her, he replied, "Sure."

Margaret Alabaster, being the sweetly over-protective mother she was, carefully handed the blanket-swaddled baby to Freed. The child giggled and reached a hand out of her cocoon, pulling on the collar of Freed's maroon jacket. Freed held back a grin.

It suddenly occurred to Freed that he knew nothing of the baby's name, other than the fact that her surname was "Alabaster".

"Excuse me, but what's her name?" Freed asked as politely as a five year old could, all the while thinking not-so-polite thoughts about the name choices of aristocratic society. It would probably be something gross and frilly, like Victoria, or Lilith, or even_ Veronica__**. **_Freed had to use all his willpower to keep from shuddering at the horrific name.

"It's Rook. Rook Fredrick Margaret Alabaster - quite the mouthful, isn't it," Rook's mother replied, smiling gently at the mention of her child's name.

"I can't argue with that, ma'am," Freed muttered, relieved that the name choice wasn't something nasty and snobby sounding. He actually liked her name. Simple, and easy to pronounce and spell. One syllable, like his, and it also had a double vowel and an R. Freed liked that they had similar names, and grinned childishly at the thought. Rook grinned right back, staring up with her large eyes.

"Oh my! Would you look at the time! I'm sorry Margaret but I really must be going!" exclaimed Freed's mother, glancing at the clock on the wall of her husband's study before pulling her sister into a hug.

"It's quite alright Liberty. I hope to see you again in the new year!"

"That would be wonderful! I'll see you again at the new year party-"

Freed heard no more of the two noble women's conversation, as he had slipped out the side door of his father's study and out to the balcony that overlooked the estate. Snow covered the woodlands below like a soft blanket, coating everything in a fluffy coat of white. Flurries of snow drifted down gently from the sky, landing on Freed and peppering his jacket with white flakes. The baby in his arms giggled playfully and went cross eyed as she gazed in awe at the snowflakes settling on her eyelashes.

But that was just the first time they met, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.


	2. Chapter 2: Part 1

A/N: So yeah… Last chapter I was a complete genius and I forgot to put in the author's note. Hopefully the longer chapter makes it up to you one, beautiful story follower. THAT'S RIGHT I HAVE ONE WHOLE FOLLOWER. I'm such a sad person, I know *laughs*.

**Disclaimer:** I also happen to be the idiot who forgot to say that Mr. Mashima owns the glorious manga and anime called Fairy Tail, and that if I owned Fairy Tail, Freed would already be with Laxus. And Lucy would already be with Loke. *crowd yells* GET ON WITH IT! *ducks rotten tomato* *yells back* OKAY, GOD DAMMIT! Jeez...

* * *

**New Years With a New Friends**

"Freed!"

Said boy ducked behind a tree, giggling.

"Hmmmm… I wonder where he could be…"

Freed covered his mouth with his mitten-encased hand in a futile effort to stifle his laughter. He was such a good hider! Mom would never find him! A puff of warm air escaped his scratchy wool mitten, dissipating into the cold night air. The green-haired boy shuffled his feet in the snow, inhaling the soothing smell of pine and letting himself relax in his so-called expert hiding spot.

"Hah! Gotcha!" Exclaimed his mother, playfully jumping around the side of the tree he was hiding behind and tickling his sides mercilessly.

"Stop it mom!" Freed managed to get out between laughs, wriggling in his mother's iron grip.

"I'm the tickle monster! Tickle monsters never stop tickling their victims!" Liberty proclaimed, hoisting Freed up and over her shoulder. She turned and began walking in the direction of the manor.

"Do I have to go to the party? It's always so boring and there's no one to talk to! And you and daddy are always talking to the grown-ups," the five-year-old complained, slumping in defeat against his mother's back.

"I'm sorry Freed, but yes, you have to attend. Please try to remain formal during the party, though. Afterwards you can go straight to bed, alright?"

"Okay," Freed grumbled. He really wished that there would be something to keep him from going mad with boredom.

He really should have been more careful about what he wished for.

* * *

An hour later, Freed sat in a plush-seated wooden chair, squirming as a maid attempted to tame his green hair well enough to put it into a ponytail. His jacket itched, and it was different from his normal red one. It was too stiff, ironed and starched to the point of being almost impossible to move freely in. He might as well have been wearing a straitjacket! The awful thing was made of itchy red wool that was darker than his normal coat, but at least the buttons were in the same place, along with the pale red stripes on the edges and cuffs. He still hated it.

What he hated even more was the ponytail he was currently wearing. Freed despised wearing ponytails in general, but the fact that an _over-sized, pastel-yellow_ _bow_ was the thing holding his ponytail together made it so much worse. In Freed's opinion, he looked like a girl, and his long, lustrous eyelashes were_ not _helping.

A knock rang from the other side of the wooden door to the room.

"Come in," Freed said, making his best effort to sound like he wasn't dreading the moment the person walked in and saw the _ridiculous_ ponytail he was being forced to wear.

"You look wonderful Freed! Such a cute little gentlemen!" His mother mused, planting a kiss on his forehead. "Dismissed," Liberty said curtly and gestured to the maid who had been doing Freed's hair.

"Thank you ma'am," the maid replied, bowing before exiting quietly through the back door to the servants quarters.

"I knew I could trust Matilda to get you ready for the party! Your hair looks beautiful!"

Freed resisted the urge to glare at his loving mother.

She detected his annoyance nonetheless.

"You only have to wear it for the party. Come now, it's not like it's permanent, is it?"

"I guess," came Freed's muttered reply.

Liberty took Freed's frowning face in her hands, touched her forehead to his, looked the grumpy five-year-old straight in the eyes, and smiled as she said, "Now, how about we go see some guests."

Freed really couldn't help but smile back at his mother.

* * *

They stood at the entrance way to the Justine manor, neither giving a second glance to gorgeous craftsmanship of the high, vaulted ceilings or the crystal chandeliers. Liberty was decked out in a elegant gown of a coral pink satin, folds of creamy silk fabric forming a sort of collar, draping across her breast bone and wrapping around her arms just below the shoulder. She looked quite regal, dressed like that with her green tresses all up in a bun, a couple ringlets spilling down to hang off the updo in a queen-like way. The picture of sophisticated grace.

Freed on the other hand... He definitely _looked_ the part, as far as the way he was dressed, but he was fidgeting, if fidgeting is even possible when standing. He scratched at the collar of the terrible itchy jacket, tapped his foot, and scowled when his mother told him to hold still so she could fix his jacket collar. That was before the guests came in.

Soon they were started trickling in, and the moment Freed heard a car pull up, he became the perfect little five year old. He didn't whine, fidget, or act stubbornly.

Liberty greeted the guests, friendly with some, and purely practical with others. Freed addressed the guests just as politely, and restrained himself from scowling in annoyance when they commented on his _adorable_ bow and ponytail combo. He hoped they choked on their wine.

It was quite to Freed's surprise when a three-year-old girl entered the room, contrary to his mother's information that there would be no children his age at the party. She was short with an adorable little ponytail on one side of her mop of blonde hair, tied with a little red ribbon. Unlike Freed, she looked delighted to have a piece of her hair tied with such a girly thing. Her huge brown eyes stared at Liberty and Freed from behind her mother in the cutest way possible. She giggled and stuck her thumb in her mouth. Freed dearly hoped that she wouldn't want to play dollhouse.

"Lucy," the girl's mother said softly, "go play with Freed," Lucy furrowed her brow and looked up at her mother. "Lucy, Freed is quite nice and I'm sure he'll want to play dollhouse with you," the child considerably brightened at that and toddled over. Freed _really_ hoped that woman choked on her wine.

Freed felt a something pulling on his arm. He looked down, and was greeted with the _wonderful_ sight of Lucy tugging insistently on his hand. Before he knew it, he was being dragged across the foyer and up the stairs to the manor's play room. How the toddler knew where the room was, he had no idea. The tiny blonde gazed up at him with a pleading look and pointed at the dollhouse sitting in the corner. Freed was pretty sure that wasn't there last time he was in the room. Lucy tugged on his arm again, and he looked away with his nose in the air. He was _not_ going to play with a dollhouse. Lucy glowered at him with a warning-tantrum-approaching look. He continued to look away. She pulled his hair. He ignored her. A glint of inspiration appeared in the girl's eyes, and she yanked down furiously on his arm. Freed, unprepared for the sudden increased amount of force on his right side, hit the ground hard.

Only, he didn't hit the ground. It seemed Lucy had jerked his arm in just the right way to shove him into a nearby chair. That was going to hurt in the morning. Freed attempted to stand so he could rub the pain out of his sore tailbone, only to find that he couldn't. Annoyed, Freed looked down, and found, to his surprise, that in the time Freed had been processing what had happened, the pint-sized blonde devil had managed to wrap pink yarn around his middle, and was continuing to do so. Figuring that if he did get free, which wouldn't have been hard, Lucy would find something a thousand times worse to do to him, Freed relaxed and let the pest do what she wanted. It couldn't be that bad.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

* * *

Thirty minutes and twenty-seven hair bows later, Freed was still seated in a chair, Lucy grinning proudly as she stuck a mirror in his face, when the room's door opened and a small child was set down on the floor. And here Freed was thinking his day couldn't have gotten much worse.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry I couldn't finish... I need to go sleep and stuff so yeah... Also sorry for not posting, but, like the lazy person I am, I have been procrastinating. Also, I have Wild Rhov's permission to use her Freed's parents names as my Freed's parents names. I hope to post soon! ~Blue**


	3. Chapter 2: Part 2

**A/N: So finally, I got off of my lazy procrastinating butt and posted this. I am so sorry for you people dealing with me *laughs***

**Disclaimer: I don't own squat, and if I did own Fairy Tail, it would suck cause I have no creativity *laughs again***

**Let's recap. Shall we?**

* * *

_Thirty minutes and twenty-seven hair bows later, Freed was still seated in a chair, Lucy grinning proudly as she stuck a mirror in his face, when the room's door opened and a small child was set down on the floor. And here Freed was thinking his day couldn't have gotten much worse._

* * *

Freed scowled.

Lucy beamed.

Rook stuck her tongue out.

And all hell broke loose.

After a five second pause of suspense, Lucy abandoned her project of decorating Freed's hair and ran, screeching with delight, towards the baby on the floor, who was currently blowing spit bubbles. The brunette child cooed with glee as Lucy snatched her up, somehow managing to do so in a way that wouldn't hurt the child. Rook pulled on a lock of Lucy's hair and stuffed it into her mouth, chewing on it with her sharp teeth and slobbering adorably all over her own cheeks.

Meanwhile, Freed was out of his yarn-wrapped chair and silently creeping towards the room's door. He had to get out of here. How much longer he could endure this torture, he didn't know. Yanking the accessories out of his hair, and pausing to grab his scalp in pain when a few hairs were ripped out, Freed slowly and deliberately tip-toed in the direction of the exit.

It seemed the fates wanted him to suffer today.

Freed yelped loudly, stubbing his toe on a wooden duck toy, and then falling over into a gap between book shelves. Both Rook and Lucy turned to stare. The green-haired boy let out a disgruntled growl and floundered like a turtle on it's back. Not a single person in the world had ever done a better impression, intentionally or not. Rook spit Lucy's hair out and smiled toothily at him. Freed growled again and desperately tried to get out of the crevice he was trapped in.

Apparently that wasn't going to happen.

Lucy stood up and toddled over, shoving him back in as he attempted a futile escape from the clutches of the bookshelves. Freed landed with a solid _whump _as the air was knocked out of his lungs. The little devil then proceeded to cram various stuffed animals, dolls, princess dresses and other feminine paraphernalia into the nook in which he was stuck. An hour or two later, as Lucy and Rook played with the rainbow xylophone and Rook actually played a couple decent notes on it, Freed was still stuck.

So when a maid entered the room to collect Lucy and Rook so they could go home, Freed resembled a pile of frilly pink things, glitter, and plushies with gargantuan eyes that he didn't know were in his house.

"Sir," the maid started, and Freed knew full well what she would say next. "Do you require assistance?"

"No," Freed growled, beyond the point of self-control.

"Alright then..." She said, and left with Lucy holding onto the edge of her apron and Rook in one arm.

For the first time in his life, Freed swore.

* * *

**I know this was hella short but hey I'm lazy let's face it. I mean... yeah it's real short 'n all and I gotta write more but I just couldn't make this chapter long cause it's sort of just the ending of the other one... Yeah... I'll probably have a one-shot about Rook and her posted soon... I can't wait to introduce him even though the one-shot is really sad T~T **

**Until next time! ~Blue**


End file.
